The 13th Doctor
by Informative
Summary: The 12th Doctor is reincarnated with some troubling news. With his inevitable end coming and all options exausted, there is only one last resort... (This story is set in an alternate universe from the TV series)


With the eleventh Doctor gone, his final replacement is reincarnated. A short man, roughly five foot four with short gray hair that is quite messy and would need a fair bit of grooming to look the least bit tidy. His face is similar to the First Doctor, old and worn out, and it is obvious he is nearing his end. His apparel is a plain white Tee-shirt and long pants with his sonic screwdriver tucked within one of the pockets. The Doctor lays unconscious within the TARDIS on his back for several hours before waking up.

The TARDIS has given itself an appearance of an empty and white room with blank walls, floor, and ceiling. The ceiling itself has a series of lights to give the innards of the TARDIS luminosity.

"Oh dear...what happened, how did I get here?" the Doctor asks himself, "I thought I was done for." In spite of his confused state, the Doctor's voice was quite light and welcoming. Moments after the Doctor's awakening, a small device is teleported into the TARDIS. The device is a little black chip with a button on one side and a convex curve on the other side.

"A message from the Time Lord council perhaps. Yes, I should take a look and see what they want," the Doctor says by mumbling to himself, and rubbing his chin with his index finger.

The Doctor places the small device in his palm, and presses the black button then flips it over. A hologram of the first Time Lord Rassilon appears. His expression was a mixture of grief and reluctance.

"Hello, Doctor. The time has finally come. There is a lot of talk about you in the Matrix. Do you know what happens to you when you reincarnate? Nothing! You just morph into your new self. You see...I had a vision that this would happen and if you're watching this recording, my vision came true. I made sure that you would not reincarnate anymore than twelve times so please, enjoy your final years and may death be merciful upon you in spite of your past evasions. I look forward to meeting you again in the Matrix..." Rassilon's voice shifts, he is going to regret the next three words; the expression on his face changes from his reluctant grief to a more powerful flare, "...no more Doctors." and the hologram zaps back into the machine.

The Doctor was flabbergasted by this news, only a few questions zip around his mindthat are quickly answered by himself, "Why did he limit my incarnations? Oh, yes, because it would make me immortal. I only live to do good. Why...oh, well, I guess no matter what I do, I must die for good, eventually."

After a few minutes of lollygagging over his pondering thoughts, the Doctor snaps out of his idle stance and checks if it's safe outside the TARDIS.

"Of course, Earth. Silly me to forget...where about on Earth and what age, though?" the Doctor rambles to himself. He checks his scanners for the date and location.

"Interesting. 2015. July 2. America. 8:03pm. Ha. Leela would be thrilled if she were here. I wonder how Lethbridge-Stewart is going," the Doctor says. He stops for a moment to think back over his memories with the two companions.

The Doctor steps out of the TARDIS and examines the surrounding area by rummaging through some black bags of trash and waste, iron bins, and the dumpster nearby. He is in a small alley that is terribly trashed with a horrible scent of rotten eggs. The Doctor ignores the scent and takes a stroll around the block. He takes a glimpse of the moon and admires its beauty of the peaceful night.

Somebody walks past the Doctor. The Doctor briefly looks to the person and says, "Beautiful night tonight." and continues observing the moon.

"Go fuck yourself," the hooded man snaps back in an angst tone, and continues to rush off. The Doctor doesn't let the man's narcissistic tone ruin his moment of admiration of the night sky.

The moon is quite marvellous tonight, a blue moon, actually. The city lights and smog block out most of the stars but the moon outshines it all with its majestic blue resonance. The Doctor weeps a single tear at this sight, he knows this will be the last blue moon he will see on Earth...

The Doctor wipes away his single manly tear and continues to walk down the footpath. He enters into the nearest store, which happens to be a Tobacco store.

The store is riddled with little trinkets like soccer balls, footballs, baseballs, bats, some small pieces of jewellery, and on the counter, a stash of condoms, cigars and lighters stand side-by-side. The Doctor briefly coughs and hits the small bell on the counter.

A somewhat overweight and unapproachable man appears, and wipes his nose with his arm then asks, "Hello, do you need something?"

"No, thank you, good chap, I'm just wondering...what town is this?" the Doctor asks then pauses to glance at the items then redirects his attention to the man, "I'm a bit lost."

"You're in Texas, pal. Frisco, if you want to be precise," the man replies in a monotone fashion and points to his little map of the U.S.A.

"Very good, sir, thank you. Nice little shop you have," the Doctor gives a brief smile and turns around to walk off out of the store.

After a quick walk around the block, the Doctor arrives back at his TARDIS and instantly notices somebody has made their home next to it. The man looks quite dirty, a typical hobo with his beanie, fingerless gloves, and bulky jacket.

"Excuse me, sir, are you alright there?" the Doctor asks, his curiosity getting the best of him.

"Mmhe, weh, huh...what?" the drunkard asks, slightly confused.

"Are you okay?"

"Yesm, I'm joostn fine," the man swings his arms around aimlessly with his bottle of bourbon in one hand. He finally gains some control and gestures to the Doctor if he wants any, making a strange gruff sound.

"No, thank you, good man, you can have it," the Doctor smiles, slightly waving his extended hand left and right at the bottle.

"Yousm sounds nice, like an ang- angel from church today!" the homeless drunkard innocently smiles at the Doctor.

"Thank you, and you smell rather nice for a hobo," the Doctor gives a brief smile back at the man. The homeless man raises his bottle and takes a drink from it.

"I used to...uhm...I used to..." the homeless man says. He stutters several more times and rubs his beanie, trying to remember.

"Don't worry, it'll come back to you," the Doctor reassures the man.

"Ye...science stuff, uhm, Biology. I used to be a BIOLO-gist," the words spew out of his mouth as he speaks, emphasizing on words he shouldn't.

"Really? Maybe we can talk about that when you're sober tomorrow. It's always fun to meet a fellow scientist," the Doctor says, his voice becoming giddy suddenly.

"You...youse one too?" the man raises an eyebrow.

"You could say that, yes," the Doctor replies, nodding.

"I can't leave the poor chap out here in the cold...I doubt he'll get a shock from the TARDIS. Look at him, he can barely sit up,"the Doctor thinks to himself. He concludes his monologue discussion and expresses his inquiry to the man.

"Good chap, would you like to spend the night in my TAR- uh, my home?"

"You'd do that?" the man asks, his eyes glittering at the Doctor's generous offer.

"Well, sure, why not?" the Doctor asks rhetorically, opening the TARDIS for him and the man to enter.

The homeless man slowly creeps up, clinging to the TARDIS. The Doctor holds him up and walks him into the TARDIS, and the man doesn't even widen his eyes or give a gasp of surprise, he just shuffles in and the Doctor takes him to the bedroom where the man collapses onto the bed, snoring already. The room itself has wooden walls and ceiling, all made from oak, along with a fluffy soft carpet. A king-size bed is in the middle of the room against the back wall with two drawers left and right of the bed and a lamp on both drawers. A small chair stands at attention in the corner closest to the door. "Hm, yes, good night," the Doctor says softly. He continues to contemplate about the news from earlier until he too falls into a trance.

The dawn is rising. The Doctor is sleeping soundly. The homeless man is snoring like a mad walrus bellowing into a microphone plugged into a subwoofer. The man's grizzly beard has not been tended to for what looks like weeks. His nails are as black as the road pavements just outside the TARDIS and his smell is worse than it is outside.

As the clock by the bed ticks to 10:04 A.M, the homeless man yawns profoundly, exposing his unattended teeth and terrible morning breath.

"Faaaaark...what a night. Oh man, this hangover...hold on a minute, this isn't my bed and no lady-friend is naked next to me..." the man pauses to notice the old and somewhat classy man sleeping on a chair, "I hope not!" the man gets onto his feet and rubs his hands down his face, then turns around to walk into the main room of the TARDIS.

The man's voice is a little deep and flaky and he takes a short breath every few words to finish his sentence.

"What a weird ass home this guy has. Where's the damn coffee..." as the man said, 'coffee' a coffee machine appeared out of the wall, "...I see. Voice activation." the coffee dispenser was already preparing his coffee. It was making several distinctive sounds. Grinding, boiling, pouring. He stood and watched with a slight smile, then he mumbled to himself, "I wish my ex-wife was this fucking quick."

After the coffee dispenser dispensed his coffee with much efficiency, he took a test sip and gradually took larger sips. He thinks to himself, "Holy fucking cat shit and dog piss! This is the coffee I have ever tasted!"

The Doctor stirs his head slightly before his arm slips off his leg, and causes his head to fall which in turn causes him to wake up. The first thing he notices is the man missing from his rose red bed. He gets to his feet and looks into the main room of the TARDIS to notice the man enjoying his best coffee of his life.

"Good morning..." the Doctor pauses for a moment and covers his chin with his hand and rubs his lip for a moment then changes the sentence, "What's your name?"

"I'm David. My friends call me Dave, though," the man replies, turning around to address the Doctor.

"This is the best damned coffee I have ever tasted. How is it made?" Dave approaches the coffee machine and examines it by arching his head and body around it in hopes of finding options.

"It's made on what you prefer. It scans your chemical make-up and analyses what you're currently craving and creates the coffee based on its conclusion. Of course, it can't make everything so just hope you crave what it does have: Sugar, cocoa beans, caffeine, and milk. I can add extra items if I know I'm going to want them later but let's save that for another time."

The man chuckles. "You're fucking with me, right? Scanning chemicals in a human brain..."

"Do I sound, or look like I'm fucking with you?" the doctor emphasises on 'fuck' as if the man misused the word, then crosses his arms together and blankly stares at him. Dave looks at the Doctor and raises an eyebrow of suspicion and hums for a brief moment and concludes that the Doctor is being truthful.

"Alright, sure. I believe you. Anyway, do you have some clothes that I may use? I'm late for work. I should be freaking out right now but I can't care less anymore," the man's voice becomes quieter and quieter as he drags on with his sentence.

"Yes, of course. Closet!" the Doctor replies, then shouts at nothing. A wall slides open to reveal a series of clothes. Some formal, some classy, all perfect for a good day in a rich man's world.

"Do you have any lab coats? I work in a laboratory and did the stupid thing of taking my coat home. We are supposed to keep them at lab but I didn't bother and now I've lost it!"

The Doctor approaches the closet and vanishes into the clothes. He emerges minutes later with a long, slick lab coat that has long white pants and a white buttoned shirt on a coat hanger. The Doctor gestures the coat hanger to the man for him to grab it and asks, "Is this what you're after?"

"Yes, thanks..."

"Say, chap...Dave. How do you plan to get to your workplace? Neither of us have local transportation."

Dave ponders on the thought then an idea makes him raise his eyebrows, "I'll catch a few buses, I have some change in my pocket." and he walks off to the bedroom to change. The door closes behind him after the Doctor says, "Close."

After Dave comes out of the room, he looks much more intelligent than before. The white suits him quite well, but he still needs a good shave.

"Where's the restroom? I need to clean my face up. Got hair gel?" Dave asks, looking around the main room.

"Toiletry," the Doctor says bluntly, and another wall sinks into the floor to reveal a bathroom which is equipped with a sink, toilet, mirror, and a bathtub with curtains. A little rubber duck sits on the side of the tub with the name, 'MAX' in bold and black letters.

Dave walks into the bathroom and opens the mirror from the side to find a razor and some shaving cream. He fills the sink up with cold water, covers his manly hairiness with the shaving cream, and commences the unmanning that is known as shaving.

Thirty or so minutes pass and Dave looks astonishing. Ten years younger and his short black hair spiked up by stroking and combing back his hair with gel on his fingers and comb stick.

"How do I look?" Dave asks.

The Doctor raises an eyebrow when he examines the hair and gradually begins to smile as he examines further down his body to his face, to his torso, to his legs, and the smile ceases when he notices Dave has no footwear.

"You don't expect yourself to go to work without shoes, do you?" the Doctor asks sarcastically with a brief chuckle.

David looks down and looks at his feet, then looks up to the closet, "Are there shoes in the closet?" the Doctor nods once, and Dave proceeds to obtain appropriate shoes. He picks out some slick, polished, and white leather shoes with black socks.

"Alright, Dave. You're now set for work. May I tag along?"

"Whatever for?"

"Scientific curiosity, chap."

"I'll try..."

The Doctor dresses himself in a black suit with a bright red vest, buttoned up white under-shirt and a little white bow tie. The long silky black pants and black elf-tip leather shoes fit his attire well.

"How do I look?" the Doctor asks with a smug grin and his left eyebrow raised.

"Like you're ready for a formal party."

"That's what I like to hear, now let's go."

After an hour of changing from bus to bus, the Doctor and his companion, Dave, arrive at his workplace, BioChems Inc. Dave walks into the lobby with the Doctor following in.

"Hey, Jen. I'm late, I know. I had a late night and -" Jen cuts David off.

"You're fired if you're late again. CEO's word. Sign in and get down to the lab."

"Can my friend here get a guest pass? He's a scientist and -" again, Dave is cut off, but this time by the Doctor.

"Hi, I'm the Doctor," the Doctor extends his hand to Jen. She slowly reaches out to shake it, awkwardly, "I am wondering if I may take a look around and see what our friend David does."

"Are you an inspector?"

"No ma'am, I am just a curious scientist."

"David, he falls on your head if something happens. Take this pass, Doc'. I shouldn't, but if it gets rid of Dave any quicker, I will," she frowns when looking at Dave then covers her hate with a horribly fake smile toward the Doctor.

"Thank you," the Doctor says.

Dave scowls at Jen, then walks to the elevator. The Doctor tucks his pass into his vest pocket, then follows David into the elevator. He presses the down arrow button three times, and each time he pressed it, the number above the elevator door would subtract from zero to negative one, negative two, negative three, then Dave hits GO. The elevator descends...


End file.
